"Ben lived in Philadelphia...having come there in 1914 from St. Petersburg. I’m a native Pennsylvanian so, when we decided to look for the ‘place in the country,’ without too much effort, we gravitated toward PA. Armed with real estate sections of the New York Times and Herald-Tribune, and veering in the direction of Bucks County, we reached Pipersville and the office of one Reed Nash – farmer, who, by simply changing his hats, became our real estate agent...and so began the Trek."


"After looking, in cursory fashion, at twelve places, some of which we didn’t even stop to check, the magic number turned out to be 13. From the road, the 1,000 foot long lane in such poor condition – horse and buggy territory – we had to leave the car at the bottom of the lane, walking the distance to the top of the hill. The house, large barn and an old stone ‘summer house’ (where they first lived in the 1800s while the ‘larger’ house was being built.) The summer house turned out, eventually, to be the smoke house where the meats were done. Tobacco Road incarnate. P.S. - bought the whole thing that very day."


"Ben was one of the fortunate few who could do the thing he loved best to do, on his own term, in his own time, beholden to none, feeling that every day was a holiday and a vacation."
Rae


"Our farm here in Bedminster had been painted and drawn innumerable times since it is one for all seasons..."


"It was primitive living those first years as we rebuilt and restored the house and the farm buildings. Ben would say, ‘Let no man speak of Thoreau to me.’ But we loved the place and loved it more and more as time went by."


"He’d ask me to pick whatever flowers were there when he’d decide to do a still life, and that’s when I learned what photo-tropism meant! Not until much later on, need I add, because all I knew was that when the thing was set up, I noticed Ben didn’t begin to paint until more than an half hour later until ‘they found their own light, etc.’ It was as if, say the Anatomy of a Tulip from the inside out."


"To the farm – only to become involved with chickens! Ben had built a fine brooder house, getting day old chicks, and thanks to some ‘cursory counseling’ from the County Agent, Ben made the water stands, feed troughs, etc, and so — The Beginning. They really did well, but actually — except for ‘bartering’ some of the eggs at the village store — we just gave them to family and friends when they came out! But we did have this huckster who’d come periodically to buy some of the chickens, and since he could see this was not ‘Big Business’ with just 300 turned pullets, he asked what Ben ‘did.’ "He’s a painter,’ I said, and he answered, "well there’s money to be made in painting barns.’ And to this day, that’s how it remained!"